


The Care and Feeding of Jonathan Byers

by YumeArashi



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Anorexia Mention, Jonthan is not fooled, Multi, Period-Typical Sexism, Poverty, Pride, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, affectionate scheming, at least not always, eating disorder mention, harmless prank, marital discord, sneaky feeding, stupid bets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-03
Updated: 2017-05-03
Packaged: 2018-10-27 05:50:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10803039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YumeArashi/pseuds/YumeArashi
Summary: or, Five times Steve and Nancy sneakily fed Jonathan, and one time he openly fed themSteve and Nancy both feel that Jonathan could use some more meat on his bones - however, Jonathan's pride makes this difficult.  Luckily, they enjoy a challenge.





	The Care and Feeding of Jonathan Byers

**Author's Note:**

> A big thank you to all my Stranger Things loving friends who gave me ideas for sneak-feeding techniques!

 

It began with a simple peanut butter sandwich.

Steve looked over at the aforementioned sandwich, the only thing Jonathan had pulled out of his brown paper lunch bag.  “That’s all you’re eating?” he blurted thoughtlessly, then grunted as Nancy elbowed him.

“Mom didn’t get a lot of hours this week,” Jonathan muttered, his shoulders hunching.  He focused on the sandwich so as not to see their expressions.  “It’s fine.  It happens sometimes, I’m used to it.”

Steve immediately shoved over his own meal.  “Here, I’ll get something from the lunch line.”

“Not eating your lunch, Harrington,” Jonathan said flatly, looking even more defensive.

“I’m pretty sure the lunch line isn’t actually food anyhow.  But we could share?” Nancy coaxed.

“Yeah, man, you gotta be starving, I hit my growth spurt and started eating like a horse.  This can’t be good for you.”

Jonathan sighed at the twin pairs of puppy eyes.  “Just this once.  I don’t want your pity food, okay?  We get by.  I’m not some charity case.”

“No charity, we promise,” Nancy told him earnestly, exchanging a glance with Steve.

Clearly, it was time to find ways to feed Jonathan that weren’t charity.

 

* * *

 

**One**

Jonathan looked up at the pizza place’s menu board – and its prices.  “You guys go ahead.  Mom’s making meatloaf for dinner and it’s my favorite, I don’t want to fill up.”

“That’s fair.  I’ve had your mom’s meatloaf, it’s worth waiting for,” Steve nodded.

“Definitely,” Nancy agreed, stepping up to the counter and ordering a slice of cheese.

Steve pondered the menu board for a few more minutes, then looked over at Jonathan with a grin.  “Hey Byers, I bet you twenty bucks I can eat a whole pizza myself.”

“Get off it, Harrington, not everyone carries around ridiculous wads of cash like you.  Or is willing to throw them away on stupid bets,” Jonathan snorted.

“Fine, I’ll bet my twenty bucks against…hm…I know!  If you lose, you have to listen to five albums of my choice, in their entirety!”

Jonathan grimaced at that.  “Your taste in music sucks.”

“That’s what makes it worth twenty bucks.  You in?”

Jonathan decided that he probably wouldn’t lose, and if Steve wanted to lose money stupidly, who was he to turn him down?  “You’re on.”

He and Nancy found a corner booth sat down.  Shortly thereafter Steve came over with his pizza - a large deluxe, not coincidentally.  Jonathan and Nancy both laughed at him.

“Oh my god, Steve, you’re such a pig,” Nancy gave him a playful shove.

“No way you’re eating all that,” Jonathan smirked.

“I can totally do this, you wait and see,” Steve grinned.

In all fairness, as a growing teenage boy with a very healthy (ravenous) appetite, Steve probably could have made at least a very good try at finishing the whole thing.  But after just half the pizza he sat back with a heavy groan.  “Oh my god, I don’t even want to _look_ at a piece of pizza ever again.”

“Told you,” Jonathan said.

“Yeah, yeah, asshole,” Steve dug on his wallet and pulled out a twenty-dollar bill, lazily tossing it across the table.

“Are you gonna take the rest home?” Nancy asked casually.

“Hell no, if I tried to have that for dinner I’d puke.  I’m gonna need at least a week before I go anywhere near pizza.  You want it?”

Nancy wrinkled her nose adorably.  “Ew, no.  Olives on pizza are wrong and gross.  What about you, Jonathan, you want it?”

“I’m good,” Jonathan forced himself to say.  “You can have it Steve, stick it in the fridge and maybe you’ll want it after all.”

Steve made a face and shook his head. Getting up from the table, he grabbed the pizza box and headed for the nearest trash can.

“Wait, hang on, you’re just gonna toss it?”  Jonathan was appalled.

Steve shrugged.  “Nancy doesn’t want it, I don’t want it, you don’t want it.  If no one’s gonna eat it, it’ll just end up in the trash sooner or later.  Why bother hauling it home only to let it mold in my fridge?”

“I didn’t think you’d throw it away.  If you’re gonna waste food, I’ll take it, jeez.  Next time don’t make stupid bets about food you won’t even eat,” Jonathan frowned at him.

“At least not for twenty bucks,” Steve agreed, sitting back down and sliding the pizza across the table to Jonathan.

Getting Jonathan to accept half a pizza _and_ twenty dollars – Steve was very pleased with himself.

 

* * *

  **Two**

 Nancy dropped into a seat at the cafeteria table with a dramatic sigh.  “I cannot believe my mom, she is such a spazz!”

“Why, what’d she do?” Steve asked though a mouthful of sandwich.

“Look at this lunch!” Nancy said exasperatedly, pulling out one that was twice the usual size.

“And that’s your mom’s fault?” Jonathan asked suspiciously.

“She read this article in Good Housekeeping about anorexia and now she’s convinced herself that I’m starving myself to look pretty,” Nancy said with disgust.  She handed half of the extra sandwich to each of the boys, gave Jonathan the second apple, and pushed the additional cookies over to Steve.  “She’ll freak if I bring any of it home.  Hope you’re hungry.”

“Always,” Steve said cheerfully.

Jonathan didn’t argue, knowing the alternative was the trashcan, but he didn’t look convinced either.

[A few days later, at the Wheeler house]

“Your brother will be upstairs in a minute, Jonathan.  Could you come into the kitchen for a minute?  I have something for your mother, if you could take it to her.”

“Of course, Mrs. Wheeler,” Jonathan agreed.

“I’ll go check and make sure the little goblins really are wrapping it up, you know how they get,” Nancy volunteered, heading to the basement.

Karen handed Jonathan a hand-copied recipe, then glanced in the direction of the basement before asking, “Jonathan, can I ask you about Nancy?  Is she eating all her lunch at school?  Do you ever see her skipping meals, or talking about how she needs to lose weight?  Does she seem too skinny to you?”

Jonathan blinked.  He’d been so sure that the huge lunches were just an excuse to give him food, and not a particularly convincing one at that.  “Nothing like that, Mrs. Wheeler.  She never skips meals or seems worried about her weight.  And, um…” he blushed a little, “from what I can tell she doesn’t seem too thin.  I mean, not like I would know.  It’s not like I’ve ever, uh, gotten a good look or…” he trailed off, forcing himself to shut up before he _really_ got himself into hot water.

Luckily Mrs. Wheeler either didn’t notice, or mistook his embarrassment for something innocent.  “Oh, that’s a relief.  Thank you, Jonathan.  Give your mother my best, won’t you?”

“Of course, Mrs. Wheeler.”

Once Jonathan had left, Nancy stuck her head into the kitchen.  “Did it work?”

“I think so,” Karen smiled.

“Thanks, Mom.  You’re the best.”

 

* * *

  **Three**

 “Come on in, Jonathan,” Nancy smiled.  “Steve’s here already, he’s in the dining room.”

“I saw his car out front.  Why the dining room, though?”

“Mom hosted one of her fancy-schmancy ladies’ luncheons today, she said we can have whatever’s left.  Honestly, I think she just doesn’t want to deal with packing it all up,” she explained as she led the way.

Steve greeted Jonathan with a wave, perched on the sideboard with a plateful of leftovers from the bountiful, well- plundered spread on the dining room table.  The table settings had been mostly cleared away but all the serving dishes were still left.  There were deviled eggs knocked askew from their pretty arrangement and dainty, slightly disheveled tea sandwiches, half-full bowls of potato salad and pasta salad, and collapsed displays of olives and pickles skewered on fancy toothpicks.

“Wow.  She really goes all out, huh?” Jonathan asked, eyes wide, as Nancy shooed Steve off the furniture.

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure at least half the women in her lunch group are only in it to show off, so it always turns into a big fancy thing and of course everyone else who hosts has to keep up or look bad,” Nancy shook her head, making herself a plate.  “I don’t know why she bothers.  We don’t even have room in the fridge for half this stuff.  You watch, the minute you try to walk out the door she’ll appear out of nowhere with a whole pile of tupperwares for you both to take home.  But hey - her loss, our gain, right?”

“Guess so,” Jonathan shrugged.

[two hours earlier]

Nancy opened her mother’s copy of Good Housekeeping and spread it out for Steve to see.  “Okay, we want it to basically look like the lunch spread on this page, only like the big fancy lunch is over.  So, we’ll use plates and bowls twice as big as we actually need, and stir the food around and up the sides until it looks like they used to be full.  You can start by crumpling some cloth napkins and filling the water glasses to varying levels, and leave them around like people are finished with their meal and have left the table.  I’ll arrange the food in patterns and then make a mess of them.  It’ll all have to be at room temperature, of course, if only barely.”

“This is a ridiculous amount of effort,” Steve observed mildly, doing as he was bid.  “Do you think he’ll notice we mostly got food ready-made from the store?”

Nancy shrugged.  “What if he does?  He’ll just think my mom cheaped out.  The important things is that he buys our story.”

Steve smiled and came over to steal a kiss.  “You’re such a great girlfriend.”

“And you’re an idiot, Steve Harrington.  But a pretty great boyfriend, too,” she smiled back, and let him.

 

* * *

  **Four**

Steve looked up from the album cover Jonathan was showing him, hearing a car door shut out front.  “Looks like Nancy’s here.”

Jonathan nodded and hopped off his bed, heading up the hall.  He opened the front door and blinked, seeing Nancy with each arm full of grocery bags.

“Oh good,” Nancy looked relieved.  “Can you and Steve come give me a hand with these?  You’re not going to believe what happened.”

“Yeah, sure,” Jonathan looked over his shoulder and waved for Steve to join him.  As he took a load of bags and followed her into his kitchen, he asked, “Why are you bringing in all these groceries?”

“Short answer, because there’s stuff that needs to be in a fridge or freezer, so I can’t let it sit in the car.”

“Long answer?” he asked, picking through the bags to find the perishables as Steve carried in more.

“Because my father’s an _idiot_ ,” Nancy said with exasperation, waving a hand in a gesture of dramatic frustration.

“Your father being an idiot equals bringing groceries to my place?” Jonathan asked, baffled.

“Yeah, see, listen to this.  Yesterday Mom asked if I’d go grocery shopping for her this afternoon, right?  But last night my dad saw the shopping list she left for me and decided - I cannot _believe_ this - that since Mom’s birthday is this week he’d do the grocery shopping for her.  Like, this is his idea of a grand romantic gesture!  He didn't even buy her a box of chocolates while he was there.  Mom was _so mad_ , oh my god.  She told me ‘Nancy dear, get your father’s groceries out of my sight and then go spend some time with your friends, your father and I need to have a talk.’  He is _so_ in the doghouse, he’s gonna be sleeping on the couch for a week.”

“Wow, that’s…yeah, even I know that’s not romance,” Jonathan shook his head.  “Well, you’re welcome to leave the stuff in our fridge for now so it stays fresh until you head home.”

“Thanks, but I can’t really bring it back to my place.  No way I’m gonna risk Mom going off on a fresh tirade.  Besides, I’d already finished the shopping and put everything away, so all this is duplicates of what we already have.  Even if we could find a use for two of everything, we couldn’t eat it all before it goes bad and I’m not sure we’d have room for it in our kitchen anyhow.”

“You’re just gonna leave it?  We can’t accept all this, it must have cost a fortune.”

“What else am I going to do with it if I can’t bring it home?” Nancy pointed out with a shrug.  “The grocery store doesn’t take returns, and even the soup kitchen’s closed early for Sunday services.”

Jonathan ran a hand through his hair.  “We’ll hang onto it for now.  If your mom calms down and wants it back, we’ll have it here.”

“Fair enough,” Nancy agreed cheerfully.

[the next day]

Joyce tucked the phone under her ear and settled in a kitchen chair.  “Hi Karen, it’s Joyce.  I just wanted to check with you about those groceries.  Nancy told Jonathan what happened, I can’t believe Ted thought that doing your grocery shopping was any kind of a birthday present!”

On the other end of the phone Karen blinked and bit back laughter.  Nancy hadn’t filled her in this time, but she could guess it was another scheme to feed Jonathan.  And what a story!  It was alarmingly plausible, really.  “I couldn’t believe it either, but considering that he got me a new iron for Valentine’s day, I really shouldn’t be surprised.”

“He didn’t!”

“He really did.  Not a romantic bone in his body, that man.”

“Unbelievable,” Joyce said sympathetically.  “Are you sure you really want to leave the extra groceries here?  I could run them over to you, it’s no trouble.”

“No, no, it’s fine.  I don’t need them and frankly I don’t really want the reminder.  Honestly, I appreciate you taking them off my hands.”

“Well, if you’re sure.  Have Nancy bring the receipt next time she comes over and I’ll send the money home with her.  And don’t even tell me ‘oh don’t worry about it’, you know I can’t do that.”

“You took the words right out of my mouth,” Karen smiled.  “I tell you what.  I have a certain husband who needs to make things up to me for my birthday.  If you have a free evening coming up and don’t mind watching the kids so that Ted can give this whole romance thing another try, we’ll call it even.  Fair?”

“I can live with that,” Joyce told her, relieved.

 

* * *

  **Five**

 “Hi, guys.  Jonathan’s not home right now.  He should be here soon, though, if you’d like to come in and wait,” Joyce sounded slightly puzzled, but stood back to welcome them inside nonetheless.

“Thanks, Mrs. B!” Steve said cheerfully.

“What’s all this?” Joyce asked as Steve and Nancy brought several grocery bags in.

“Just a little prank we’re playing,” Steve said cheerfully.

“Not a bad one,” Nancy added hastily, seeing Joyce’s eyes narrow.  She took a pack of snack cakes out of one of the bags - Jonathan’s favorite, she knew.  “The good fun kind.  No harm done, we promise.  Is it okay if we go to his room?”

“Well, all right.  Am I supposed to pretend like you’re not here?” Joyce asked.

“Nah, we don’t want to startle him,” Steve shook his head.  None of them dealt well with surprises these days.

“All right, you two have fun setting up whatever you’re doing with those, I’ll send him back to his room when he gets home.”

“You’re the best, Mrs. B.,” Steve grinned and tossed her a candy bar from another of the bags.

They headed back to Jonathan’s room, and got to work.

**

Jonathan smiled when he came into the room, glad to see them.  “Hey, wasn’t expecting you.  Nice surprise.”

“How was work?” Nancy asked.

“We got you a present,” Steve grinned, tossing him the snack cakes.

“You didn’t have to,” Jonathan protested, setting the pack on the dresser and starting to strip out of his work clothes.

“We wanted to,” Nancy told him as they admired the view.

“Yeah, well - ” Jonathan stopped as he pulled open his dresser drawer for a fresh t-shirt and found a granola bar nestled innocently among the folded fabric.  “Why is there a granola bar in here?”

Nancy giggled.  Steve grinned.

Jonathan pulled open the other dresser drawers, finding more hidden treats.  “You guys are seriously weird.  Why did you fill my dresser with snacks?”

“Well…” Nancy said innocently, looking at everywhere but Jonathan.

Steve’s grin grew bigger.  “Countdown to realization, three…two…”

“What _else_ did you do?”

“Nothing, Jonathan.  We only hid snacks, we promise,” Nancy said, the perfect picture of virtue.

Jonathan’s eyes narrowed.  He turned to the bedside table and pulled the drawer open.

An orange sat incongruously between the condoms, skin cream, and box of tissues.

“Wow, thanks, guys.”

“It’s nothing we haven’t seen before,” Steve pointed out.

Jonathan went to his closet.  A pack of Slim Jims stuck out from the pocket of his jacket.

“Did you guys seriously hide this stuff _everywhere?”_

His exasperated tone tipped the other two over the edge into laughter.

Jonathan shook his head, his annoyance fading at their merriment.  It had taken him a while to learn the difference between laughing _at_ him and laughing _with_ him, but they’d gotten there.  “Well, I didn’t exactly plan on a treasure hunt today, but okay,” he said with amused resignation as he set to searching.  Fruit cups tucked away behind his stereo, packets of crackers stuffed in his pillowcase, beef jerky balanced atop the curtain rod, a box of cookies tossed under the bed - no hiding spot was left unfilled.  “You should have done this to Will, he’d have had a great time,” Jonathan observed, pouring candy out of his empty film canisters.  

“I’ll suggest it to Mike for Will’s next birthday party,” Nancy smiled.

“I'm sure he'll - Seriously?” Jonathan asked, finding some fruit leathers taped to the back of a poster.  "If I can't find everything and we get rats, you're paying for an exterminator.”

Steve sighed and pulled out a ten-dollar bill and handed it over to Nancy.  “Damn, I really thought you wouldn’t find those.  It’s all good, Nancy made a list, because of course she did.”

Nancy rolled her eyes as she pocketed the money and retorted, "Well I didn't see you offering to keep track of it, did I?  We couldn’t risk ending up with a room full of moldy old food.  Although if you found those, you’ll probably find it all."

“You guys are ridiculous,” Jonathan told them, pulling out some books from his bookcase and finding a trio of pudding cups and a banana.  The ever-growing pile of snacks on his bed was rather impressive by this point.  “I’m going to have to take this place completely apart, aren’t I?”

“We’ll help you get your room back to normal after,” Nancy offered.

“Are you mad?” Steve asked, a little worried.

“No.  But you deserve this,” Jonathan threw a packet of cookies at Steve’s head.

 

* * *

**And one**

“Want me to take a picture of the contents of your fridge?  Maybe by the time I get done developing it, you’ll have made up your mind,” Jonathan grinned.

“Ha ha, smart aleck,” Steve closed the fridge and gave Jonathan’s shoulder a gentle shove.  “I swear, my parents don’t keep anything good in the kitchen.”

As Nancy rolled her eyes and smacked Steve’s arm, Jonathan stared at him incredulously.  “What do you call all that?” he asked, gesturing to the fridge and pantry.

Realizing his misstep, Steve gave him a sheepish grin.  “…Ingredients?”

It was Jonathan’s turn to roll his eyes.  “In case you hadn’t noticed, ingredients become food once you put a little work in,” he pointed out.  “What’s in the fridge could make tacos or meatloaf or chili or any number of things.”

“Yeah, but it’s not like I know anything about turning ingredients into food.  You think I paid attention in Home Ec class?”

“It’s not that hard, Steve,” Jonathan told him.  “I’ve been cooking for my family since Lonnie split and Mom had to go to work full time.”

Steve blinked. “…Didn’t you say your mom ditched your old man when you were like ten?”

“Yeah,” Jonathan scowled defensively.  “So if I could learn when I was ten, you can learn now.”

“You can teach me, then,” Steve coaxed, wanting to draw Jonathan’s thoughts from their dark turn.

It worked - Jonathan blinked in surprise.  “Teach you?”

“What he really means,” Nancy said, “Is that you could cook _for_ him while he stands around and acts like the charming goofball he is.”

Steve smiled winningly.  “Same difference?”

“You’re an idiot, Steve Harrington,” Nancy told him.  “And a shameless one at that.”

“True,” Steve admitted cheerfully.  “What do you say, Johnny-boy?  I know anything you make will be delicious,” he gave Jonathan his best puppy eyes.

“Won’t your parents have a problem with me using up this stuff? I mean, they must have bought it planning to use it in something.”

Steve shrugged.  “I can run to the store tomorrow and replace it.”

“Well…okay.  Got a preference?”

“You said meatloaf - I don’t suppose that’s your mom’s meatloaf?” Steve said hopefully.

Jonathan grinned.  “Her recipe, yeah.  I can show you how to make it.”

“I can’t promise I’ll be a good student, but I can be good company,” Steve said enthusiastically, getting out the package of ground beef.

“I’ll take it,” Jonathan smiled.

In truth, he hadn’t needed as much coaxing as Steve had thought.  It was nice knowing he was able to give something back, after all they’d done for him.  And he’d always liked feeding people – or at least, feeding his family, who were the only people he’d cooked for before.  As he set to work with the other two keeping him company, and later as the three of them settled around the table with Steve and Nancy enjoying and praising the meal, Jonathan found liked cooking for his girlfriend and boyfriend just as much.

 


End file.
